Traffic
by Richonne
Summary: Michonne will do anything to get out of a ticket.


Mid May was hot and getting progressively warmer each day. Rain was also common, which meant that when the sun came out, as it invariably did by noon or just after, the whole world turned into a fishbowl of moisture and heat. Sheriff Rick Grimes wanted nothing more than to get home, take a cold shower, and then sit on his shady porch with a cold beer and enjoy the evening as it cooled, and wait for his woman to call him in for dinner.

"Fuck," he whispered. His shift was almost over but a speeder just had to go by. He flashed the lights and then followed them until they pulled over.

The area he'd made the stop was one of the loneliest roads in town. Traffic rarely came by before curfew, much less speeders. He'd be late getting home, late getting his shower, and late for dinner, all because of this. His fingers itched to write that ticket.

The woman behind the wheel was strikingly attractive and, he could sense, had an attitude. She operated the hand pump to roll down her car window and looked out at him from behind a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses.

"Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

He shook his head, annoyed. This was going to be one of _those_ stops. "You were speeding. Do you know how fast you were going?"

"No."

"You were doing at least twenty-five in a fifteen mile per hour zone."

"How can you tell? You don't have one of those ray guns to check speed."

"I've got a good eye for these kinds of things," he said. "There's a low speed limit for a reason. It's to conserve gas. Why aren't you on a horse, or driving a wagon?"

"I was out on a run. Brought back supplies for the GP."

He knew that by GP she meant general population. She'd been out scavenging for the good of the whole, so that bought her some cred with him. Unfortunately the smug way she smirked was quickly eating up that cred.

"I see containers of alcohol," he said, looking into the front seat beside her.

She smiled. "For my boyfriend. I plan to lick some off his dick…if he plays his cards right."

Rick's mouth went dry. "Ma'am…have you been drinking?"

"Do you think I've been drinking, Officer?"

"If you're not going to answer my questions, I'm going to have to ticket you."

She reached up and languidly slid the shades down to gaze at him with obsidian eyes. "Now, is that really necessary, Officer?"

"Yes, ma'am, it is."

"I'm sure we can work something out, can't we?" the woman asked, and winked.

Her dark skin had a sheen of sweat from the humidity and heat. The sweat smelled fresh and was mixed with whatever soap she'd bathed in that morning. He breathed in the scent and felt his pulse quicken. Her hair had retained the grape smell of kudzu and the clean scent that can only come from good, fresh air. He backed up when the door clicked and the woman started to get out.

"What are you doing?" he asked, on edge. This traffic stop was slowly slipping out of his control.

"I just need to stretch my legs," she explained. She eased up against him, crowded him, as she shut the door. "Now, why don't we work something out to keep me from getting that ticket?"

"It's just a ticket. The fine won't be that much…"

Her hand brushed against his cock, putting just enough pressure and friction on him to tease. He tried to ignore it.

"Oops," she said, and pulled the shades up so they rested atop her head. The evening sun was a brilliant shade of gold and red that her dark skin seemed to absorb and give her an ethereal glow.

"I suppose we could work something out Miss…?"

"Michonne. You are?"

"Grimes. Rick Grimes. Sheriff here in Sanctuary Three."

"Do Sheriffs usually patrol for speeders?"

"I pitch in where I can, ma'am."

"Call me Michonne. Now, about that ticket…"

She moved past him and walked right up to his truck. He took time to enjoy the sight of her particularly round, firm ass in that denim miniskirt. Her legs were long, lean, and well muscled. She leaned into the passenger side, looked around, and then opened the door.

"Ma'am, you're not supposed to-"

He cut off when some kind of cloth hit him in the face. He pulled it away and looked at the material. It was a pair of cotton panties.

"Jesus," he whispered.

She was lying back in the truck now, her feet up on the runner, her head toward the steering wheel. "It's getting dark, and I need to get home to my boyfriend. He likes to have his dinner on the porch when the weather is good."

"So do I," he said in a voice quickly becoming choked with lust.

Michonne was now running her hands up her belly, pushing her shirt up to reveal beautifully perky breasts. She tweaked her hardened nipples and opened her legs just enough to give him a peek at her moistened womanhood. That pushed Rick over the edge and he approached her.

She grinned, smugly, and wrapped one leg around him. He sighed when she undid his belt, then his jeans with expert ease. "Unbutton your shirt. I want to see that chest."

He obliged while she stroked his cock. He was rock hard and precome glistened on the head of his cock. She sat up and flicked her tongue out, tasting the salty fluid before taking him deep into her mouth.

"Fuck," he sighed. He stood with one hand on the truck, the other on the open truck door. Somebody could drive by at any moment. Everyone in the settlement knew him. They'd stop to see if he needed assistance and how the fuck would he explain this?

He wouldn't. Just knowing they could be caught was a turn on. He pulled, gently, away from her, and then started to sink to his knees, but Michonne was having none of it. She put both legs around him and pulled him close, nearly successful in her attempt to pull him inside. He studied the slight swell of her belly, where she was just beginning to show, and guided himself gently inside her wet warmth, earning a strangled sigh of longing and pleasure from her.

"You know what I want, just the way I want it," she said.

"I do," he answered, and thrust his hips forward, pushing himself deep inside her. He withdrew, slowly, and then thrust again. She grew wetter every time he plunged into her. Soon he leaned forward, his feet barely on the ground as he fucked Michonne with wild abandon.

When it was over, so was their little game of seduce-the-cop. He slipped from her and then used her panties to pat away the sweat from his brow. She watched him and laughed, but sobered when he reached out to touch the swell of her belly.

"I've been pulled over for speeding three times in my life. This was definitely the best one," she informed him.

"You won't be getting a ticket. You uh…worked it off."

She laughed and snatched at her panties, but he held them at bay.

"You're going to make your pregnant girlfriend drive home in a miniskirt with no draws on?"

He helped her back to her feet and then kissed her deeply. "If your panties mean so much to you, stop throwing them at me."

She buttoned his shirt and then snatched her keys from the front seat of the truck, but he prevented her from going to her car when he pulled her against him and kissed her neck.

"Marry me."

It wasn't the first time he'd asked. She usually never responded. This time, however, she covered the hand that rested on her belly…and she gave an answer.

"Yes."


End file.
